Windswept (39 page)

“He might open some doors,” I said. “Besides, don’t you feel safe traveling with a Union man?”

“Not this one,” said Banks.

“Jilly,” I said, “you get us to the control center in the next three minutes, and I’ll give you a million yuan.”

“Shit,” said Jilly, throwing the van into gear. “For that kind of cash, I’ll do it in two.” She slammed on the gas, and the van shot into the stacks.

One minute and fifty-seven seconds later, the van screeched to a halt outside the lifter’s queue control station, a hurricane-proof block of efficient pourform. A pair of Saarien’s goons stood at the door, their riot hoses up as I threw open the door. “Hi!” I called out. “Man, we’re glad you guys’re still here.”

“Hands above your heads,” said one of the goons, sighting in on me.

“Sure!” I said, putting my hands up. “Though it’ll be kinda tough to help Brother Evanrute when I’m like this.”

The goons took a step toward the van, then caught sight of the bloodied and unconscious Saarien in the back seat. “The mob, they got to him,” I said.

“What mob?” said one of the goons.

“Haven’t you heard?” I said. “There’s rioting in the stacks, people turning on each other, everyone going crazy!”

“We haven’t gotten anything,” said the goon.

“Well, how could you?” I said. “Guys like you were the first ones they went after. We saw them get beaten to death with their own helmets. No comm gear. You know. Come on.”

The goons looked at each other, and I grabbed them by the rescue hooks on their chestplates. “Look, it doesn’t matter if you’re loyal to WalWa, Saarien, Jesus Christ, or the Virgin Buddha, because in a few minutes, three hundred thousand very armed and very angry people are going to crash down on this station and kill anything in their way. You got enough foam to stop that many people?”

The goons shook their heads.

“Then get your asses in gear and help us get him inside so we can hole up and not get eaten. Got it?”

The goons nodded and reached in for Saarien. We entered the building, the goons carrying Saarien, through automatic glass doors. I snatched some riot grenades off one of their belts and said, “Oh, crap. We forgot all of Brother Saarien’s gear. He’s got some special equipment that might hold off the riot. Mental factoring quantizing uplinks. Takes two to carry. Go. Go!”

They set Saarien down on a bench and hopped out the door. I nodded at Jilly, who floored it and shot away. I locked the glass doors as the goons turned, then threw the lever for the hurricane shielding. It thunked into place as they raised their riot hoses. “One day,” I said, “WalWa will realize their security forces have the brains of squirrels.”

“Thank God that’s not today,” said Banks.

We found a desk chair with casters and set Saarien down. His head lolled from side to side as we pushed him toward the elevator bank. “Please present biometric ID points,” said the Univoice as a pair of panels slid open next to the doors. I shoved Saarien’s hand in the lower slot and his face in the upper. There was a polite beep, and the Univoice said, “Thank you, Evanrute Saarien. You and your guests are cleared.”

“Big surprise there,” I said. “Rutey must have bought access all the way up the cable. There are probably vending machines in orbit just waiting for his touch.”

“I cannot
wait
to unravel all this,” said Banks.

“Try not to sound too enthusiastic, Banks,” I said. “We still haven’t saved the world.”

“Yeah, but it’s just a matter of time, right?” he said. “The police will probably storm the port, as will any WalWa security not loyal to Saarien. Besides, the first cans probably haven’t even gotten two klicks up.”

“Which means we still have to bring them
down
,” I said, “and getting those crawlers to change direction is a pain in the ass.”

The elevator
ding
ed, and the doors opened on another pair of goons. “Who are you?” said one of them.

“My God, it’s terrible!” I said, pushing Saarien past them into the hall. “The guards at the front door need your help! Hurry! Get up there before they’re torn to pieces!”

Ever obedient, the goons trooped into the elevator. As the door closed, I pulled the pin on a riot grenade and tossed the fizzling canister at them. The door shut, and there was a
crump
from the super-expanding foam.

“Any chance of doing the same with the lifter?” said Banks.

“At this point, it might be worth a shot.”

We turned the corner to another door with biometric locks and MAIN CARGO CONTROL written on it small, official letters. I pushed Saarien’s hand and face in front of the lock, and the door hushed open on a dark pit of a room whose only light came from three dozen fuzzing workstation monitors. The air was thick with the tang of smoke mixed with wet iron smell of blood.

Saarien stirred, and I clamped a hand over his mouth.
You picking up anyone?
I texted Banks.

got twenty pais. nineteen with flatlined owners.

Banks pointed at the one workstation whose monitor wasn’t a mess of snow and static. Two bodies slumped on the desk, pools of blood next to them picking up glints of color from the screen. Someone bulky hunched over the monitor, a phone in one hand while the other banged on the desk. It looked like she was swearing at the top of her lungs, but she was somehow doing it in a very polite tone. I crawled down a row to get a closer look, trying to place where I’d heard the voice, and it wasn’t until I saw Nariel’s one good eye gleam in the monitor light that I realized she was sending texts from her pai into a text-to-speech box – one that used the Univoice. It was like hearing a librarian lose it, yet keep using her Inside Voice.

“No, you fucking moron, I do not want to speak with your coordinating supervisor, I want you to do what I fucking say,” said the Univoice, as Nariel punched the desk. She now wore goon combat armor, and her gloved fists made dents in the caneplas desktop. “Clear the goddamn roads. I do not care if you have to run a bulldozer over everyone, get them out of the way.” She gave the other end a second to respond, then banged the receiver on the desktop. “Shut it, you drooler. Shut. Up. Get those cans in the queue, or I will crawl through this line and strangle you with your own testicles.”

I pointed at her, then motioned to Banks that we should crawl around Nariel from opposite ends, then take her. He nodded and crept away.

Two gunshots rang over our heads. “I am tied into the whole network, you idiots,” said the Univoice. “Saw you coming the minute you put Evanrute’s retinas into the system, and I can trace where you are from your pais.”

I blinked up a status menu and put my pai into shutdown. “Any way we can talk about this reasonably?” I called out. Another shot zinged over us.

“You did not do anything but delay us, Padma,” said Nariel. “I am going to get all of this up the cable, and then I am going to fling it out across the universe and follow it as far away from this shithole as I can go. But not until I have burned this place to a cinder.”

Even now, she still couldn’t get her pai to use contractions. “You can’t do this, Nariel,” I said. “I know you’re angry, but you can’t take it out on the planet, and on everyone else.”

“Fuck you, fuck your planet, fuck everyone,” she said, taking another shot. Bits of plastic stung my face, and I ducked under a workstation.

“So, this is how you’re going to get back at me?” I called out, and another shot splintered the monitor above me. I rolled away and scurried down the row. With the Univoice on the PA, Nariel was free to move anywhere. “You let this traffic go up the cable, you’re going to condemn everyone in Occupied Space. You’re going to send us back to the Dark Ages.”

“You always think it is about you,” said Nariel. “Hate to break it to you, Padma, but you are no longer part of the equation.”

“Oh, please, Nariel,” I said from my new hiding place. “You always took everything personally. Remember how you forgot to order enough straws for Playoffs?”

“That was
your
fault,” she said, the Univoice attempting to sound angry. “You did not remind me of the deadline.”

“And you made my life easy at the stadium? You wanted to play games with me, but now you’ve got to blame me when it all turned on you?”

“This is your fault, you and the rest of you Union assholes.”

A pencil lay on the ground in front of me. I grabbed it and called, “You never stuck around long to hear about the benefits you got with a Union card.” I flung the pencil to the other end of the room, and it clattered against a monitor that blew apart under the gunfire. Nariel kept shooting until the gun
click
ed itself silent. I peeked up from underneath the table and saw her only two rows away, struggling to reload.

“Jesus, Nariel, I bet back in B-school, you didn’t listen,” I said, looking for something blunt and only finding instruction binders. “Don’t you remember what we learned in Crisis Communications?”

“Shut up,” said the Univoice. Nariel gritted her teeth as she tried to remove the magazine.

“No jerky movements, always go smooth,” I said, picking up a shattered monitor. It didn’t have much heft, but it would have to do.

“Shut. Up.” The clattering grew louder.

“Take care of your weapons, and they’ll take care of you.” I crouched low, the monitor in both hands, and moved closer.

“SHUTUPYOUFUCKINGBITCH” She must have lost the patience to put spaces in her text.

“Aim straight and squeeze,” I said, then jumped onto the desktop, in time for my calf to give way. I hit the desktop, the monitor’s weight dragging me over. The monitor smashed on the ground, and I fell on top of it, right into Banks’s lap.

“I was just about to make my move,” he said.

“Great timing.”

There was a smooth click, like a well-oiled doorknob turning, and Nariel climbed to the desktop I’d just fallen over. She let go of the gun’s action, then aimed it at me, a smile on her pulped face, and then she froze. “Ef ef ef ef ef,” said the Univoice as her whole body shook, and then she sagged over the top of the workstation right on me. A giant dart with a fuzzy yellow end stuck out of her back. Banks grabbed the gun as I kicked Nariel off of me.

“Hello!” called Gricelda. “Please toss that weapon over here, thank you!”

“And don’t try any of that sneaky backdoor shit on us again, Mr Banks,” said Madolyn.

I looked at Banks, who sighed, “Shall we?”

“You sure you don’t want to go out in a blaze of glory?” I said, eyeing the gun.

“We have tear gas, too,” said Gricelda. “Plus some grenades that have all sorts of lovely symbols on them.”

“Looks like they release fire-breathing ferrets, or something like it,” said Madolyn. “Tough to tell with these LiaoCon jobbies.”

“I don’t get paid enough to deal with that,” said Banks.

“I wouldn’t pay you enough to,” I said, then called out, “OK, we’re coming!”

“Weapons first, please!” said Gricelda, and Banks pitched the gun over the top. We both stood, our hands up. The twins were at the back of the room on either side of Saarien, each of them aiming a dart gun at us.

“Well!” said Madolyn. “I’m so glad we didn’t have to resort to anything lethal to resolve this situation.”

“What did you shoot her with?” I said, nodding back at Nariel, who was now fast asleep and pissing herself.

“It’s a sedative slash muscle relaxant,” said Gricelda. “We save it for our more active cargo.”

“Which means we buy in bulk,” said Madolyn, patting her gun. “So there’s plenty more for both your asses.”

“OK, OK,” I said, putting my hands even higher. “No need to knock us out.”

“Not yet, anyway,” said Gricelda. “What with our poor old backs, we’d have quite a time pouring your deadweight into hibernant bags.”

I stiffened at the thought, and Madolyn laughed. “Oh, my dear, it won’t be anything like your time in transit. The new stuff is
marvelous
, though it does give some people a greenish tint for a few days.”

“It’s the copper,” said Gricelda. “Or the marker dye. We’re not quite sure, but it’s perfectly harmless.”

“Perfectly.”

“What happened to jumping in orbit?” I said.

“Oh, we’re still going to do that, but you’ll be out cold first,” said Madolyn.

“We can’t chance your being awake when we return to our employers,” said Gricelda.

“Now, be a dear, and haul that psychotic good-for-nothing into something with wheels, hmm?”

“Who, her?” I said, looking at Nariel.

“Of course,” said Gricelda. “No loose ends, no nasty leave-behinds.”

“We clean our own messes,” said Madolyn.

“Now we’re operating on a rather tight schedule,” said Gricelda. “We only have a few minutes before word gets back to someone with bigger guns, which gives us a short window to skip off this world, so, allez vite!”

“That means haul ass,” said Madolyn, heading toward the door.

“No,” I said, and the sisters stopped in their tracks.

“I don’t think we heard that right,” said Gricelda. “That sounded like a refusal.”

“A negation.”

“A stoppage.”

“Goddamn right,” I said. “You’re going to let this place fall apart, and I can’t let that happen.”

“It’s not a crime if you write the laws,” said Madolyn.

“Or hire the lobbyists,” said Gricelda.

“Ooh, good reminder,” said Madolyn. “We need to get us some of those. Also, more flamethrowers.”

“What happens on the next world?” I said. “Someone innovates a way to refine cane that cuts into your boss’s bottom line, and you burn a billion people?”

“Oh, my dear, there are only a few hundred thousand on Santee Anchorage,” said Gricelda.

“But we’d still fry them, yes,” said Madolyn.

“Then fuck you,” I said, sitting back down in a chair. I looked at Banks, who nodded and took a seat, too. “You’ll have to drag us out of here yourselves.”

“Dear, please, be reasonable,” said Gricelda. “What have those people out there ever meant to you?”

“Everything,” I said.

“Oh, God,” said Gricelda with a sigh. “That Solidarity nonsense again. I never understood how you could build an economy off that.”